


A Bond Eternal

by Suzann89x



Series: Where Your Loyalties Lie [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzann89x/pseuds/Suzann89x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to Where Your Loyalties Lie]<br/>Snape and Hermione continue their relationship, which they have to decide whether or not to disclose, while fighting not only the stigma of their relationship, but Voldemort as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confessions

“Hermione! Are you okay? You look dreadful! Can I hug you?” Ginny Weasley flew into the Gryffindor common room the evening Hermione had been discharged from the hospital wing.

Standing carefully from the squashy sofa, Hermione winced slightly – her ribs were still rather sore, “Ginny, yes, I’m okay; Madam Pomfrey says it will take about a week for the stiffness to go away. She wanted to keep me in the hospital, but I told her I just _had_ to take my final exams; they’re very important and I don’t see why a little pain should get in the way of my schooling.”

“You’d think being unconscious for weeks would make her appreciate the simple stuff,” Ron commented to Harry when Ginny had released the girl from the careful hug.

“Like education?” Hermione sighed, “Honestly, Ron, when are you going to get it into your head that you can’t just learn this stuff overnight; it’s not magic.”

“Actually, Hermione, I’m pretty sure that’s _exactly_ what it is,” Harry laughed.

“Oh, you know what I meant! Can’t you let it go, just once?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

Wrapping his arm around Ginny’s shoulders as she took a seat on the sofa beside him, Harry grinned, “Not a chance.”

Ron grumbled impatiently, “Did you just say ‘ _it’s not magic_ ’?  So much for you being the smart one, Hermione.”

More to prevent herself from snapping at Ron than to make conversation, Hermione casually questioned, “So, when did you two decide to tell Ron?” she looked meaningfully at Harry’s tight embrace of Ginny.

Ginny shrugged, “About a week ago. The whole sneaking around thing was too much trouble; we figure if Ron doesn’t like it, he can just butt out,” she smiled at her brother teasingly before turning back to her friend and sighing, “I honestly don’t know how you do it and don’t go absolutely mad, Hermione.”

“Wait, what?” Ron did a double take.

“Did we miss something?” Harry asked, perplexed.

Making a quick apologetic face to her friend, Ginny shifted her eyes between the two boys before looking at Hermione, “You should just tell them, Hermione.”

Hermione sighed, “I guess you’ll find out eventually; I might as well just tell you now, since it came up; _thanks_ , Ginny.”

Harry and Ron immediately gave Hermione their full attention; Harry cleared his throat, “Since what came up?”

Hermione chewed her lip for a moment before responding, “I – uh…I’ve sort of been – been seeing some – someone.”

“What? Hermione, that’s great!” Harry grinned, “Do we know him? Surely we know him; he goes here, right? ‘Course he does.”

Ginny and Hermione shared an amused look before Hermione replied, “Yes, you know him.”

“Gryffindor?”

The girl shook her head.

“Hermione, tell me he’s not a Hufflepuff.”

Chuckling quietly, Hermione shook her head again.

“Ravenclaw, then?” Ron joined the guessing game. The girl sighed in disappointment.

Harry mouthed _Slytherin?_ to Ron.

“She wouldn’t,” Ron said, “This is Hermione we’re talking about.”

Harry eyed the girl suspiciously, “Hermione, is he a Slytherin?”

Ginny tugged her legs up onto the sofa, sitting on them, “Oh, this should be fun.”

Glaring quickly at the red-haired girl, Hermione nodded, “Yes, he is.”

The boys made faces of disgust; Harry groaned, “Ugh, Hermione. It’s Malfoy, isn’t it?”

Giggling, Hermione held her face in her hand, “No. Definitely not.”

“Why don’t you just tell us?” Ron asked, “For Merlin’s sake, at least tell us this: is he in our year?”

“No.”

Ginny snorted, “Just tell them, Hermione!”

Hermione braced herself for her friends’ reactions, taking a deep breath, then replied, “No; he’s not in our year. He’s graduated already…”

The boys stared blankly at her.

“For goodness sake!” Ginny exclaimed, “You two are so thick it’s disgusting; it’s a teacher!”

Hermione flushed bright red; she looked intently at the wool of her dusty pink sweater when she saw the boys give her disbelieving looks.

“Is that even allowed?” Harry frowned, “and all of the teachers are so old; isn’t…isn’t the… the youngest...youngest one – _No_!”

“What? What, Harry?” Ron pressed his best friend for explanation.

Hermione pulled her sweater up to cover her face as Harry grimaced, “Ron, all the teachers here are pretty old – like they could have taught my parents – all except one, who actually went to school _with_ my parents.”

“Lupin? Harry, Lupin’s been gone for three years,” Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione yanked the sweater off her head, scratching her face with the rough material, “ _Snape_. I’m seeing Snape.”

“WHAT?” Ron bellowed, “No! How could you?”

Frowning at the boy, Hermione narrowed her eyes, “How could I what, Ronald?”

“Harry’s hated him since First Year, Hermione! You can’t just… **betray** him like that!”

“I haven’t **_betrayed_** anyone! I’m not asking you two to love him; I just want you to accept that I do.”

The boys’ expressions returned to their previous blank, disbelieving state.

After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Harry coughed, “Her – Hermione...did you say...did you say you **love** him?”

The girl nodded, “I do. Harry, that’s why the Death Eaters thought he would give them information if they tortured me...they knew he’d do anything he could to protect me,” she paused before saying sincerely, “I know you’ve never liked him, Harry, but he’s a good man; I need you guys to try. You’re like brothers to me, and I just couldn’t take it if you despised him. Please just try.”

The boys groaned; Ron scowled at Hermione, “Not much opportunity _to_ try; only time we see him’s when he’s passing out detention.”

Seeing Hermione’s eyes slowly growing watery, Harry elbowed Ron in the ribs, “Yes, Hermione, we’ll try.

 

_______________________

 

Hermione slowly pushed open the door to Snape’s classroom; he had asked her to come that evening, but hadn’t specified a time. When he saw her standing inside the dim room, Snape stood from his desk and swept hurriedly to her, “Hermione, it’s excellent to see you out of that damned hospital bed, walking around.” He kissed her lips gently but quickly, “How are you feeling?”

The girl nodded, “Okay. I mean, I’m still a tiny bit sore, but Madam Pomfrey said I would be.”

Looking down at her in a faintly disappointed manner, Snape frowned, “She says you wouldn’t stay, even though she recommended you do so.”

“I know. But I can’t miss exams!”

Snape sighed, shaking his head, “Ever the overachiever.”

“Hey, I’m not here to see my professor, Severus,” Hermione declared.

Snape tightened his lips slightly and brushed his lips over Hermione’s neck, “No? How fortunate; it would be very inappropriate for a professor to tell you to come into his bed.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, “Are you?”

“I am,” he quietly spoke into her ear, lacing his fingers in hers and pulling her into his bedroom.

She breathed deeply; Hermione hadn’t realized how much she had missed the scent of potions, sandalwood, and whiskey of his room. She smiled at him, “They should make a cologne called ‘Chambers of Severus Snape’

Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, turning to properly occupy it, and grasped Snape's hand, pulling him onto the mattress as well. The professor took her face in his hands and kissed her hungrily. “Take this off,” he said, attempting to pull her shirt up over her head.

She obeyed, then blinked at him for a moment before softly clearing her throat, “Severus, I love you. It's so weird how much my perception of you changed. I mean, you're now this incredible, brave, handsome, sexy man, and at first, you were the dark, brooding, cranky professor who gave awful homework.”

“The assignments were not intended to be easy. And I wasn't cranky.”

“You were a little cranky,” Hermione teased.

Snape frowned.

“Are you going to get cranky again?” Hermione smiled, towing the wizard around to switch places with him, then pushed him back to lie on the bed, “Do you need me to cheer you up?” She learned over him to kiss the side of his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his torso, trailing her lips along his chest and stomach. Hermione let her hand glide over the firm bulge in his trousers before sitting up on her knees to reach behind herself and unclasp her bra. She slipped her arms out of the undergarment and tossed it aside.. She gazed down at him, then turned her chocolate eyes to Snape's face.

Snape lifted slightly up to touch her cheek tenderly, “My god, I can't wait to be able to call you my wife.”

Hermione blushed slightly pink, looking down at the emerald ring on her hand; she touched the stone thoughtfully, “I really don’t know why.”

Sitting up, Snape frowned, “Because I love you and why would I not want to keep the only thing that has ever made my life feel worthwhile? I want to be able to see your beautiful brown eyes at night before falling asleep and your wonderful tangled mess of hair each morning; I want to ensure your happiness, keep you fulfilled, be certain your life is as excellent as it can be; I want to make a life with you, to share a home, to build a family with you. No one has ever been able to convince me those things were desirable, but I need to experience them with you. I was incomplete without you, Hermione.”


	2. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is, surprisingly, summoned to a Death Eater's meeting, where he hears troubling news.  
> An impromptu encounter with Hermione turns steamy before being interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*  
> This chapter contains sexual content, in conversation and action; if either offend you, or you do not wish to be exposed to such things, I am sorry to have to advise you to simply not continue reading this story, because there will be much more discussion/acts of this nature in it.

Frozen feet against his leg woke Snape, who glanced toward the other side of his bed, slightly irritated with the startling shock that had forced him from a comfortable sleep; he frowned deeply at Hermione, frustrated that she hadn’t slept in socks to prevent such an abrupt awakening. The professor then smirked as he recalled exactly why she had not worn socks; his frown then became directed at his own foolishness: _You’re irritated? What’s wrong with you? You wake up to a nude teen girl in your bed, and you’re **irritated**? Think, Severus, remember the reason she had undressed.  _ Snape no longer was irritated with her, and chose to slip into a daydream rather than brood. 

Rolling over, still mostly asleep, a familiar yet recently absent scent enveloped Hermione as a wayward tress of her frizzy hair tickled her nose; a strong but gentle hand brushed the girl’s curls away from her face, allowing a soft kiss to be placed there.  Breathing deeply, the girl snuggled closer to Snape, and let the pleasant aroma of sandalwood and whiskey soothe her back to sleep.

Several hours later, Hermione was awoken by something grazing up and down her waist; she opened her eyes to see her professor – no, _fiancé_ – propped on his elbow, gazing at her, his dark eyes filled with adoration.

Seeing her eyes open, Snape made a guilty face, “Did I wake you?  I apologize.”

Stretching slightly, Hermione sighed, “No. What were you doing?”

“Admiring.”

“What was that, again?” Hermione questioned.

Snape sighed in faux exasperation, “I believe I’ve already expressed my desire to wake up beside you, to see this mess of your hair in the morning,” as he said this, his fingers attempted to brush through her curls, but were unsuccessful; Hermione gave him a scolding look.

“I was only attempting to decide whether I’d prefer to gaze at this beautiful tangle or look upon your gorgeous face; I then realized that I am under no obligation to decide, for I will be fortunate enough to have you in my bed every morning of my life after little more than a year – I was merely marveling at my blessing.”

Hermione emitted a snort then a quiet sound of content. Snape softly kissed her lips, slowly brushing his mouth on hers.  Pulling herself against his warm body, Hermione smiled to herself, thinking of just how wonderful it would be to have this man for the rest of her life. Snape coaxed another happy noise from her by trailing his mouth down her jawline to her ear, lightly nipping her earlobe and quietly breathing, “I’m the luckiest man in existence.”

  

After spending an hour or two being held by Snape, Hermione suddenly gasped, sitting up straight and exclaiming, “I have my Ancient Runes exam today!  Oh no! I haven’t studied _at all_!”

“I doubt studying has ever been necessary for you,” Snape attempted to pull her back down to lie beside him again, but the girl shook her head and pulled her shoulder out of his grasp.

“I’m serious, Severus!  I just _have_ to do well on all of my final exams!  They’ll never let me practice Magical Law if I don’t get top marks!  Now, help me find my pants.”

Sighing, Snape stood to aid in her search, tossing the comforter and sheets out of his way, chucking pillows off the bed.

“Found them!” Hermione announced as a fire erupted over Snape’s left arm; he was being summoned by The Dark Lord. As calmly as possible, he gave Hermione a faint smile; she was already frazzled over testing and he saw no point in worrying her more.

Snape squeezed her hand and gave her a quick kiss, “Not that you’ll be needing it, but good luck.  I’ll see you this evening.” 

Hermione nodded and hurried toward the Great Hall.

 

 

Frowning, Snape rushed out of the castle and off the grounds to Apparrate to Malfoy Manor.  Although he dreaded attending whatever macabre meeting he would face, the professor rushed up the steps, knowing that whatever awaited him would be exponentially worse if he were late.

Upon entering the spacious dining room, Snape had a moment of relief when he saw that there were no Muggle-Borns or “Blood Traitors” in attendance – at least not in the room.

“Severus,” Voldemort’s cold voice hissed from the head of the table, “Sit.”

His dark eyes shifted to Voldemort and rested on the pale face for a moment, and Snape felt an intense hatred like none he’d ever experienced; Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, Tom Riddle, whatever name he used didn’t matter – that man – no, that… _monster_ had orchestrated Hermione’s capture, torture, assault, and violation.

“We are waiting, my friend.”

Snape forced himself to remain calm and took a seat near the opposite end of the long table.

“Well, what news do you bring?” Voldemort’s snake-like voice sounded impatient.

“Regarding what, precisely?”

Voldemort’s cold, red eyes narrowed, “Last you told us, Albus Dumbledore had risen from the dead – a remarkable feat. Have you eliminated him – for good – yet?”

“No, my Lord, I feel it is wise to let more time pass before another attempt; I have, incidentally, Obliviated any memory of that night from him.  It is prudent to ensure he does not become suspicious or defensive.  Was this topic the reason for the meeting?”

Voldemort glared speculatively at Snape for several moments before replying, “No, it wasn’t, as a matter of fact. I am glad to announce that, thanks to Yaxley, The Muggle-Born Registration Act will be in full effect within two weeks. It has been a long and tedious task to prepare this for implementation, but we have, at long last, been able to pass the law requiring all Mudbloods to enter into a registry,” his empty eyes, which had been surveying his followers, focused to Severus, “I do not doubt Dumbledore will resist, but you, Severus, must enforce this; you will be certain every student who is not of magical blood complies and reveals themselves.  If I’m not mistaken, the two weeks happens to coincide with the end of the school year, does it not?” 

Snape swallowed the lump that had quickly risen in his throat; he coughed quietly, “You aren’t mistaken, My Lord; it does.” After pausing briefly, the professor questioned, “What, exactly, will this law entail, My Lord?”

“The filthy Mudbloods will be questioned extensively on the source of their abilities, information regarding their families will be… _extracted_ from them, and the issue will then be dealt with.  If a Mudblood fails to register, they will immediately be executed upon capture.”

Snape cleared his throat, attempting to keep his voice steady, “How – how precisely will those that do come forward be ‘ _dealt with’_ , as you say?” 

“My dear Severus, do use your imagination; they will witness their family’s extermination then meet a fate worse than death.”

Overwhelming nausea filled Snape; he forced back the acidic taste of revulsion as he remained (only for the sake of gaining information that potentially could aid Voldemort’s defeat) at the dining table while nearly two dozen Death Eaters discussed what methods would be best to get Muggle-Borns to give information.  Snape was, in those moments, very thankful for his Occlumency skill, for some of the proposed techniques were simply barbaric: Fenrir offered the possibility of clawing their flesh down to the bone, while Rowle made a comment about slow-boiling the Muggle-Born witches and wizards, Bellatrix mentioned her torture curse several times, over-anxious for Voldemort’s praise, and Dolohov offered the idea of simply tossing them in an empty five foot square room and depriving them of food and water until they cracked. 

Yaxley frowned deeply and scowled thoughtfully, “Anyone remember what Amycus did to that Mudblood Snape was taking to bed? Didn’t he fuck her? Seemed to rattle the girl up a bit; I heard she couldn’t stop screaming…we could just _use_ the Mudbloods.  Tell me, Severus, exactly how filthy is a Mudblood’s pussy?”

Snape tightened his lips in an attempt not to snarl at Yaxley, but a low growl of anger sounded in his throat.

Voldemort’s cold, dead eyes observed Snape, watching for any sign that he was still involved with the Mudblood; the Dark Lord cleared his throat, “I do hope you’ve given up that pastime, Severus; who knows what sort of unclean Muggle afflictions the girl could pass to you.”

Fortifying his mental barriers, the spy cursed himself as he nodded, “Certainly; I’m afraid I let my physical desires cloud my judgment.”

Yaxley and Lucius laughed, the latter chortling, “We’ve all had our moments of weakness when it comes to getting a good fuck.”  

Addressing the others at the table, Yaxley offered, “How about, when she registers, we find out just how entertaining this girl is; we’ll let Severus have her first, since he’s the one who got her to drop her knickers in the beginning – he shouldn’t be left with sloppy seconds…or sixteenths.”

Snape was amazed by his restraint; he did not _Sectumsempra_ the entire room, nor did he send the internal organs of everyone in attendance bursting into flames within their bodies, which he felt he would enjoy watching very much. No, Snape merely scowled, his mouth a thin, tight line, his eyes enraged.

 

________________________

 

 

Needless to say, Snape arrived back at Hogwarts extremely stressed and slightly panicked; he snarled when he was stopped by Professor Vector, who exclaimed, “Severus!  Thank goodness you’re here; we have an emergency!”

Narrowing his eyes, attentive now that there was imminent danger, Snape asked, “What?  What’s happened?  Tell me, is anyone injured?”

“Oh, no, Severus; we just can’t find Filius and he’s supposed to be one of the exam moderators!”

Snape took a deep breath to prevent himself from being overly harsh, “Generally speaking, the term ‘emergency’ is only used in matters of extreme distress or urgency.  I would recommend using that word sparingly, and only in cases of genuine crisis, Septima.”

“Oh well!  I’ve gotten your attention now, haven’t I?  We need a fifth teacher to oversee testing!  You will, do it, won’t you?”

The man furrowed his brow, considering; his mind was currently – and unwillingly – focused on the topics of the meeting he had just left, his fear for Hermione, and panic to find a solution.   Snape sighed in resignation, “If I must.”  The professor figured that perhaps supervising several hundred students would get his mind off his worries; Snape followed Professor Vector into the Great Hall, making a mental reminder to discuss the newly revealed threat of the Muggle-Born Registration Act with Hermione as soon as the exams were complete.

 

_________________

 

 

Hermione was bored; she had finished her Arithmancy exams forty-five minutes before the three hours they had been given were over. She sighed, tapping her quill on the desk.  When that became monotonous, Hermione let her mind wander into daydreams, absentmindedly brushing the feathers of her quill over her chin and across her mouth, staring with unfocused eyes toward the front of the Great Hall. She noticed something dark flicker in her line of sight; blinking to come out of her daze, Hermione realized that it had been the fluttering sleeve the of McGonagall’s robe as she gestured silently to another teacher seated at the front table, moderating. Frowning slightly, the student’s gaze drifted to McGonagall’s right, where she was met with the intense stare of Snape; Hermione gave him a faint smile, which he did not return. She was slightly offended for a moment before she realized that his black eyes were not on her face, but instead following the feather of her quill as it traced over her arm.

Hermione cleared her throat rather loudly; Snape’s eyes snapped to her face.  The girl raised her eyebrows at him, and Snape seemed slightly sheepish; giving him a sly smirk, Hermione continued looking at him as she grazed the feather over her mouth and brushed it on her neck slowly.  Although the professor looked taken aback for a moment, he quickly recovered and watched the feather brushing across Hermione’s skin sensually.  Hermione smirked slightly when she saw that he realized what she was doing. She knew he would most likely scold her for her behavior (‘what if someone noticed?’), but Hermione decided she would occupy herself by continuing to tease Snape; no one seemed to be paying her any attention, anyway, for they were all still working on their tests. Biting her lip the way she knew Snape liked, Hermione let the feather drift over her collarbone and onto the small amount of cleavage that was peeking out of her shirt as she rubbed her neck as though it were slightly sore, closing her eyes.

Her behavior was starting to have effects on her, as well; Hermione’s mind fell lazily into imagining how exciting it would be if Snape rushed into the rows of students and lifted her onto her desk to shamelessly shag her, in front of everyone.  She squirmed in her seat, an ache forming between her legs.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the horrible tease of a girl, cursing himself for having such a basic, rather shallow, and common weakness.  He decided that he would have to give Hermione a stern talking to about doing things that could put him in compromising situations.  Snape planned to discuss the topic as well as the new, threatening law, with her as soon as the exams were over; he enjoyed the performance Hermione was giving him for another minute before he stood and swept out of the Hall, taking care to conceal his arousal with his robes.

  

“Quills down,” McGonagall instructed. She flicked her wand and the exams soared from each student’s desk to the table at the front, “You are all dismissed; although you are each free these next two weeks, keep in mind that _all_ the school rules still apply.”

The students stampeded out of the Great Hall, pouring into the entry hall of the castle.  While Harry and Ron were searching the sea of students for Hermione, she was looking for a certain dark-haired professor. 

A classroom door opened suddenly, only enough for a hand to reach out, grab Hermione’s wrist, and pull her inside the pitch-black room.  She was shoved against the wall adjacent to the door as hands groped her, one pushing up under her shirt to firmly grasp her breast, the other tearing her panties down to toss them to the floor before grabbing her roughly around the thigh and lifted her leg, propping it on a waist as the hand shoved up beneath her skirt to plunge fingers inside the girl. 

Hermione leaned her head back as Snape hungrily kissed the front of her neck, mumbling into her skin, “Do you see what you make me do?”  Pushing her shirt up higher and lifting her bra, revealing Hermione’s chest, Snape moved his mouth to her breasts, undoing his trousers. “I think I should teach you a lesson,” he growled, giving Hermione’s nipple a sharp bite as he slammed himself inside her; the student yelped.

 

“Hey!  Hermione! Hermione?” Ron called, hunting his friend.

Harry also called, “Hermione?  Where are you?  You’re usually complaining that the test was too easy by now!  Hermione!” 

Luna approached, “Hello, Harry Potter. Are you looking for Hermione?”

“Yeah, Luna; have you seen her?”

“Yes.  She went into that classroom just there,” Luna pointed to the door Snape had pulled Hermione through. 

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry said, Ron nodding at his side. 

As the two boys approached the door, Ron frowned, “Why wouldn’t she have lit any candles?” 

Harry pushed open the door to the classroom, “Lumos”.

He and Ron froze; Hermione was moaning quietly, pressed back against the wall, her eyes closed, a pair of underwear discarded nearby; Snape was thrusting and although his billowy robes blocked what was going on, it was extremely obvious.

“WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?” Ron shouted. 

Snape released Hermione’s neck from his mouth and looked at her, “God damn it.”

Hermione was frozen against the wall, too mortified to move; Snape lowered her leg to allow her foot to return to the floor.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU BASTARD!” 

Ron whipped out his wand and pointed it directly at Snape.

“I don’t care if you’re a teacher or not,” Ron snarled, “I’ll kill you.” 

Snapping out of her paralyzing embarrassment, Hermione rushed to stand between her friend's wand and her teacher, “No, stop, stop; stop _right **now**_.”

“But, Hermione, he was – ”

“ _Ron,_ I said stop.”

But Ron couldn’t prevent himself from continuing, “He was attacking you, Hermione.”

Snape had to stifle a snort; the boy glared at him, “I saw you; you were forcing yourself on her!”

Sneering derisively, the professor responded, “I _assure_ you **_absolutely_ **_zero_ force was necessary, Mister Weasley.” 

Flushing with horror, Hermione frowned at Snape, “ _Severus_ , please.”

It was at that moment that Ron recalled the information Hermione had shared with them.  His eyes flickering back and forth between Hermione and Snape, a frown gradually fell over Ron’s face, “Oh.  Right, yeah, I, uh, I forgot.  

Harry added, “Or maybe we just didn’t believe it.”

Ron paused before adding, with a look of shock and disgust, “Are – are you _serious_? Tell me you’re joking.”

“I don’t _joke_ , Mister Weasley,” Snape said evenly. 

Harry frowned, “But he’s _old_.” 

Hermione sighed, “It’s not that big of a gap.” 

“But he’s _Snape_ ,” Ron said; Snape tightened his mouth, the comment admittedly stinging slightly.

“Thank you for that observation, Ronald,” Hermione clipped.

Making another sickened expression, Ron added, “Yeah, well, you weren’t what I’d call _clear_ in your confession; I thought you were just being a girl, you know, having a crush on a teacher, hanging out with ‘im, _maybe_ kissing him, like, once.  I never thought it was anything serious!  And we find you getting shagged by him in a classroom?” 

Hermione gave a tiny gasp; she couldn’t believe how insignificant they thought her connection with Snape was. She glanced over to the man, whose eyes were trained on her, but obviously watching – glaring at – Ron out of his peripheral vision.  When the boy’s face became a color that was no where near as red as his hair, Snape ignored Ron entirely Snape looked at the girl; his chest flooded with emotions: anger, irritation, disbelief, panic, and love.  

Snape tightened his mouth and turned to Ron, slowly, calmly – almost too calmly, walked toward him, his hand on Hermione’s , bringing her along.  When the pair were only a few feet in front of Ron, Snape narrowed his eyes and surveyed Ron. Speaking in a low, menacing voice, the professor stated, “She does not ‘have a crush on a teacher’. This _is_ serious; in fact, it’s serious enough that I have – ”

Hermione lightly tugged Snape’s hand, stopping him from announcing their engagement in a classroom filled with animosity.

Thankfully, the professor understood, and ended his sentence differently, “–  chosen not to deduct points for aiming your wands at me, which would, in any other circumstance, have the both of you expelled faster than you could say _‘but Snape was…’_.  Now, get back to your House – _immediately_.”

The boys glared at Snape for several moments before fleeing from the room.

Turning his back to Hermione, Snape scolded himself, “I didn’t ward the door!  Idiotic.”

Hermione sighed; the wizard looked at her, “I blame _you_ for this, Miss Granger.”

She was startled by his sudden return to addressing her like a student.

“It _is_ your fault, you know that, don’t you?” Snape asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but it had apparently been a rhetorical question; she heard Snape swallow loudly before holding the side of her neck gently, “If you weren’t so damned gorgeous, I wouldn’t want to pull you into darkened classrooms and force myself on you, too impatient to wait until the evening.”

Hermione relaxed when she realized he had been joking, “You – you didn’t _force_ yourself on me.”

Frowning slightly, Snape shook his head in self-depreciation, “I did.  Mister Weasley was correct.” 

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around the man’s neck and pressing her body against his, “Severus, if _that_ was force, I’d recommend you forcing me more often.”

Snape raised an eyebrow, his pulse quickening (and returning to his trousers); this girl – this girl who had only recently come of age – enjoyed some of the same… _tactics_ he liked to employ. 

He cleared his throat, “I believe that can be arranged.”


	3. If That Was Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*
> 
> This chapter is mostly smut, I'm not even going to lie.

After having their intimate encounter interrupted, Snape and Hermione headed to his chambers, intending to resume their activities. However, when he opened the door to his rooms, Snape suddenly recalled the discussion at the Death Eater meeting earlier. Instead of leading the girl into his bedroom, Snape took her only into the sitting area; once they had taken their spots on armchairs facing one another, he cleared his throat, “Hermione, I was called to a meeting earlier today, and I’m afraid I have bad news.”

Hermione’s face grew concerned and shadowed with worry, “Oh, no, what?”

“Thanks to the Death Eaters’ manipulation, the Ministry passed The Muggle-Born Registration Act. All those not of a magical bloodline will be required to register; their families will then be collected and…”

“Killed.”

The wizard gave a curt nod, “Yes. You may be questioned about your family, and I would advise you to give them information – false information.”

“Of course.”

“Also, you should wipe your parents’ memories of you, and send them out of the country; I know it will be extremely difficult, but it is the only way they will be safe.”

Hermione nodded, her voice trembling, “Okay. I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

Snape sighed, “I’m so sorry.”

Trying not to cry, Hermione sniffed, “Is – is there anything else? Any more bad news?”

Clearing his throat softly, Snape shifted on the sofa, “I love you immeasurably, Hermione, immeasurably, but I cannot marry you, as much as I want to do so.”

Tears spilled over, “Wh – what? What d – do you m – mean?”

“While you were under the effects of the Letifer Ludo curse, I went to visit your parents, to tell them that you were under some spell. While I was there, I asked your parents for their blessing in asking you to marry me; they agreed, but on one condition: that they get to be there, that we not marry in secret. For your parents to remain alive, they must leave England before the summer is over; they will not be in the country next year.”

Hermione, for some reason, started laughing.

“What have I said?”

The girl giggled, shaking her head, “You – you’re so – you actually asked my dad for permission?”

“No, his blessing.”

“You’re so adorable!” Hermione grinned, mocking his voice, “‘I cannot marry you.’ You can, you just can’t wait until next year to do it!”

“And what of your final year at school?”

The girl shrugged, “I don’t see why I wouldn’t be able to still go to classes.”

Snape frowned slightly before standing and quickly stepping to Hermione, “Are you seriously suggesting this?”

She nodded, looking up at him, “It literally is now or never – well, not now, but soon.”

“Get up,” Snape demanded; Hermione stood. No sooner than she was up straight, her professor had pressed his mouth to hers, his hands on either side of her face.

When he released her, she gasped for the breath he had deprived her of, “What was that for?”

“I believe you advised me of something earlier,” he kissed Hermione, hard, biting her bottom lip sharply. Snape pulled very slightly away from her mouth, “Go. Get into my room.”

His instruction was unnecessary, for he took her wrists, holding them behind her back, in one of his hands and marched her there. When they reached his bedroom, Snape was slightly irritated when he saw that the door was closed.  
Releasing one of her wrists, he spun Hermione around violently and slammed her back into the door, giving her neck a bruising kiss as he growled in her ear, “This is what you wanted? Force? Is this really what you asked for?”

Snape could see in her lust-filled eyes that she did want him to take her in this way; he pressed his solid arousal against Hermione’s hip, “Answer me.”

Hermione only whined, too turned on to do anything, let alone do something as complicated as to form a sentence.

His hand came up to hold her throat, not squeezing, but his fingers pressing into her carotid, “Damn it, girl, respond! Is this what you want of me?

She nodded silently, dampness of desperate desire forming in her eyes; Snape threw open the door, pushing Hermione inside. He shoved her against the wall roughly; he wound his fingers in her hair to grab a handful and yanked her head back, exposing the front of her neck. He viciously kissed her, biting her skin fiercely. The man grasped the front of her shirt and tore it off her body before ripping her skirt down and shoving his hand up the back of her panties to squeeze her rear firmly.

“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you, Miss Granger?”

Hermione found her voice and spoke in a ragged whisper, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

A jolt of excitement shot through Snape at her words; he gave a wicked smirk, “You may very well come to regret saying that.”

Snape ensnared her lips with an all-consuming kiss, grasping her face in his hands as his tongue invaded and claimed her mouth. He moved his hands to grasp tightly onto her waist, roughly holding her in place, biting Hermione’s bottom lip sharply; his oaky, sensual flavor became tinged with a faint metallic taste.

Pulling away from her, Snape’s voice was low and husky as he spoke, “If…if I do something – take anything – too far…if I cause you the slightest – even the slightest pain, tell me immediately.”

The girl nodded, “Okay.”

Snape shoved her backward onto his bed, then climbed onto it as well, hovering over Hermione’s face; he ran his palms over her shoulders and down her arms, briefly lacing their fingers together before ensnaring her wrists and swiftly removing his belt with his other hand. Snape wrapped each wrist individually, then together, and bound them above her head, “You are to remain absolutely still; do you understand?”

Hermione nodded.

Snape pounced, groping the girl’s body roughly, dragging his nails across her skin, biting her flesh fiercely. He straddled her torso and abused her breasts, pinching firmly, pulling her nipples this way and that, watching as they sprung back, bouncing as they returned to their place when he released them. He rolled each one between his teeth, ending with hard bites to the pink nubs.

Snape licked, sucked, and nipped bit his way down her stomach until he was between her legs; he sat up on his knees, used his long fingers to spread her open and peered at her, “What a tempting body you have, Miss Granger. I don’t know whether to gaze at you, taste your sweet innocence, or just fuck you.”

Hermione felt a gush of wetness between her legs at her professor’s words; Snape raised an eyebrow.

“It looks as though you know which you would prefer,” he smirked, “But, I’m sorry, Miss Granger, that will have to wait.”

Hermione groaned in frustration.

Snape’s fingers traced her slick outermost lips, “Don’t despair; I won’t disappoint you. You can be sure of that,” Snape shoved his fingers into the girl, making her moan. As he delved deeper inside her, Hermione whined and bucked against his hand. Snape moved away, “That is not remaining absolutely still.”

“Sorry.”

Snape returned two digits inside her, exploring the heat of her body without caution.

“Severus – ” Hermione wanted him to do whatever he had done a moment earlier that had made her feel so…full. The only thing that compared to that sensation was when he was actually in her. She knew he wouldn’t give her that yet, so she panted, “Please – do – before…”

Knowing exactly what she meant, Snape feigned obliviousness, “What?” He resumed dragging his nails down her inner thigh.

“Damn you.”

Snape gave her a devious smirk as he plunged four digits back inside Hermione’s body; she moaned. Snape pumped his hand, furiously shoving deeper each stroke.

“I think that’s all for now,” Snape said as he ceased his rhythm a few minutes later. Hermione stopped halfway through a groan of frustration as his fingers were replaced with his mouth. She whimpered and gasped at Snape’s tongue drawing over her; she wanted to grab onto his hair, but her hands were uselessly restrained above her head. Snape flitted his tongue on her soaked body, tasting Hermione’s delicious warmth. He grazed her lips between his teeth, dragging the flesh, slowly biting it. Returning his fingers to her, Snape pushed a pair inside her cavern as he nipped her bead; at his bite of her clit, Hermione jerked.

He looked up to her face, “Stop?”

She shook her head, “No, please don’t. I was surprised is all.”

Snape gave a growl of approval, “Then keep still, Miss Granger.” He returned to her core, giving her pearl another sharp bite; Hermione moaned.

Snape spent close to ten minutes pleasuring the girl with his mouth before rising to his knees. He viciously bit her lower lip, the metallic flavor oddly exciting. The professor released Hermione’s wrists from their restraint; when she lifted her arms to place her hands on Snape’s back, he grabbed her hands and shoved them down beside her head on the mattress, “Absolutely still.”

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, even though they were already apart; she supposed Snape just enjoyed telling her what to do.

Once she had complied, Snape lazily stroked her body. When he seemed satisfied with that, the man took her hands in his, pressing them down into the bed firmly; he shoved himself fiercely inside Hermione, causing her to squeak in a way that made Snape even more aroused. She started rolling her pelvis with her professor’s; he moved his elbows to pin her hips down, “I said keep still.”

Hermione nodded as he continued to painfully push himself into her; if she were allowed to move, it would be more comfortable. She shifted slightly. Snape snapped, “You just don’t know how to follow orders, do you? That just won’t do, Miss Granger,” he removed himself from her and growled, “Turn over.”

Hermione rolled onto her stomach obediently; Snape grabbed her waist roughly and lifted her hips, “I will hold you down if I have to.”

She sighed into a pillow with pleasure as she felt him push inside her again; Snape snarled at her, “If you move again, Miss Granger, you will not like my reaction.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled roughly; Hermione whimpered.

“Where’s your Gryffindor bravery, Miss Granger?” Snape shoved roughly into her, pushing unimaginably deep each stroke; Hermione wriggled.

Swiftly, Snape withdrew from her and pushed her hips back down onto his bed; Hermione briefly worried that she had actually upset him, but she felt Snape’s weight on her back as he held a round globe in each of his hands, rolling and massaging her bottom, watching with hungry eyes as her pink puckered hole appeared and disappeared from view.

His voice husked into her ear, “Do you recall what I said? Should I do anything – tell me immediately.”

“Mmmhmm, yes, I remember.”

The professor pressed his manhood against the girl’s rear and, taking hold of Hermione's waist, he slowly pulled her back toward him as he thrust his hips forward slightly, gradually pushing inside her untouched asshole; Hermione yelped.

"Oh my god," Snape groaned as he felt her body squeezing tightly around him. Hermione sighed and looked over her shoulder at him; Snape pushed her back down onto the bed with a firm hand between her shoulder blades and continued his rhythm, his black eyes flicking from the sight of his rod invading her bum and her face, glistening with perspiration. He growled in his chest, amazed at how perfect she was and marveling at how incredibly lucky he was to have her in his life.

Snape slowly moved within her ass, grazing his hands along her back; he bent slightly over her to run his mouth over Hermione's skin as she squeaked and whined. He had never done this particular act in any way but a furious, rushed encounter and he was thoroughly enjoying the slow, tender experience.

His hands brushed up her sides, gently grazing along her soft skin as he bathed her back in light kisses. Skimming his fingers across her neck, Snape pushed her hair aside to better reveal her face; Hermione's eyes were closed lazily and her mouth was slightly open, her breaths coming in heavy, ragged pants.

“Look at me,” Snape requested; her eyes opened and lifted to him.

“You are exquisite; I am so unbelievably and ridiculously in love with you. You're perfect, Hermione,” he said, his fingertips brushing over her neck, sweetly caressing her.

“Severus, I - oh! Oh no...mmm - god! You're amazing,” Hermione gasped, “I - I'm...oh!”

Snape felt her body tense, becoming rigid; Hermione was holding her possession of ecstasy back for some reason.

“Hermione, just let go,” he said hoarsely. When she looked at him with uncertainty, he leaned over her, softly kissed her neck and whispered, “Baby, just let go.”

The girl groaned, gasped for air, then moaned as her body began to quiver violently; she arched her back, causing a new angle of penetration, which caused her to scream in pleasure and shake harder.

“Ooh, Severus; oh my god! Mmm...god, it's amazing.”

When she had calmed slightly, the man grunted, then erupted within Hermione.  
Snape rolled her onto her back to look at her face. She was still trembling beneath him, biting her lip and making sounds of contentedness; he didn't suppose she realized that he was watching her.

Hermione's eyes lazily opened; when she saw Snape hovering above her, gazing down at her, Hermione turned scarlet. Snape laughed in amusement at her expression of embarrassment.

“Don't laugh at me!”

Snape kissed her forehead, “I was just admiring you.”

“I feel like you're judging me.”

“Nonsense,” Snape declared, “You're beautiful when you're at the peak of bliss. I certainly wasn't judging you; I can assure you I enjoyed that as much as you.”

Hermione blushed and laughed heartily, Snape joining in.

The man softly kissed her forehead before resting his against it, closing his eyes.


	4. The Three Broomsticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione convinces Harry and Ron to make an attempt with Snape; the four meet in the pub.

When Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common room the next evening, she was met with two angry faces.

"Hermione, would you care to explain what happened earlier?" Harry questioned.

"Not really, no."

Ron snarled at her, "Hermione. What the bloody hell is going on? You - you can't be serious."

Hermione glared at him, “And why not?"

"It's Snape, Hermione," Harry said as though it was the only reason they needed.

The girl crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes slightly, “It’s Professor Snape, Harry. And you two have never even – ”

“Is that what this is about?” Ron growled, “Hermione, I don’t care if he guaranteed you all “O”s on your N.E.W.T.S.; it’s not worth…degrading yourself like that.”

“Degrading myself? Degrading myself? I can’t believe you think I would even consider having sex with a professor to get a better grade! It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s a teacher! He wouldn’t do that, anyway; he doesn’t let anyone get away with less than what they’re capable of, Professor Snape.”

“Oh, so now it’s Professor Snape,” Ron said bitterly, “Does he make you call him that when he’s shagging you?”

The girl felt like she’d just been slapped in the face, “He doesn’t make me do anything! And what right is it of yours to ask what goes on in our physical relationship?

“Hermione,” Harry spoke much more calmly than his red-haired companion, “I don’t get it; I mean, why? If it’s not for the grades, why are you going along with it?”

“He’s very different than what everyone sees, Harry. Sure, he’s had some less-than-savory moments in his past; he’s made mistakes, but who hasn’t? You guys just see him as a brooding professor, a Death Eater, but he’s so much more than that, so much more.”

The boys stared at her for several minutes, trying to comprehend that their best friend was seeing their harshest, meanest professor.

Hermione sighed heavily and looked at them, a pleading expression on her face, “You said you would try. This weekend is the last trip to Hogsmead; will you two at least have a butterbeer with us?”

Groaning, Harry and Ron were displeased to say the least, not to mention thoroughly offended at the mere suggestion of spending their precious trip to the village in the company of Snape.

 

_________________

 

Hermione happily entered Snape's classroom the following evening; he stood from the chair at his desk, his dark eyes filling with adoration.

The girl bounced on the balls of her feet in front of him, "I have good news. Guess what?"

Snape snaked his arm around her waist to pull her against his body, "We're leaving this damned castle and running away to marry in peace, to live somewhere else, to have a quiet, unburdened life with one another?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, Severus. Harry and Ron agreed to…a – a meeting, of sorts with us – so you can ‘explain your devious, manipulative scheme to convince me to fall in love with you’, in Ronald’s words; I had to plead for quite a while for them to give you an honest chance, but they finally said yes."

Snape released her slightly, frowning down at her, "I thought you said that you had good news."

"Don't be a grouch!" Hermione teasingly scolded the teacher before asking curiously, "Why would you consider us running off and eloping good news?"

A slight frown fell over Snape's face, "Because that would mean that you were finally and entirely mine."

"Severus, I already am," she placed a lingering kiss against his lips.

Snape smiled in a satisfied way for a moment before adding, “It will be different, though; marriage is a rather final thing.”

Hermione furrowed her brow, “Who says I won’t divorce you?”

“That’s not what I meant. But I doubt any other man would stand for your know-it-all attitude,” Snape gave her a teasing smirk.

 

 

__________________________

 

So it was, very begrudgingly, that Snape entered The Three Broomsticks alongside Hermione on the day of the final trip to Hogsmead.

"Over here, at least," he said, towing the girl to an inconspicuous booth in a dim corner of the pub. The couple slid into the booth, Snape keeping an anxious hand on Hermione's steady, reassuring one.

Madam Rosemerta approached them, "Severus Snape! I never thought I'd see the day when you stepped into my pub without Albus having to drag you. Are you doing some last minute tutoring?”

Hermione, who had been digging in her bag, looking down into it in search of her coinpurse, looked up at the barmaid.

"Oh! Miss Granger; I didn't realize that was you!" the woman said before giving the professor a skeptical look; she knew Hermione hadn’t needed tutoring a day in her life.

Noticing the odd look in woman’s eyes, Hermione smiled warmly, “Hello, Madam Rosemerta. Could I please get a butterbeer with a bit of ginger? What would you like, Severus?” She looked at the man next to her and brazenly laced her fingers through his; hearing the girl call a professor by their first name was unusual enough, but seeing Hermione’s fingers thread through Snape’s was simply startling to Madam Rosemerta.

Snape looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes; she was determinedly wearing an innocent expression. The professor addressed Rosemerta, “I should have the same, but leave off the ginger.”

Rosemerta glanced again at their intertwined fingers, then left.

“Was that entirely necessary?” Snape asked.

Hermione pretended to be confused, “What? You don’t have to have a butterbeer.”

“You know exactly what I mean: holding my hand, using my first name; she noticed.”

“Couples usually are on a first-name basis with one another; I’m sorry – I thought we were a couple,” Hermione said stubbornly, “I just don’t want to have to have any more secrets.”

Snape briefly frowned, “I apologize. You’re right. I suppose since I’ve not been fired for assassinating the headmaster, there’s little need for discretion. Forgive me?”

“I’ll consider it.”

Snape wrapped his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, pulling her against him, and lifted their hands to press his lips on the back of her fingers before capturing the girl's mouth in a slow, lengthy kiss.  
“I will snog you senseless in front of Potter if that would convince you,” he spoke once he had parted slightly from her.

“You just have,” Harry’s voice interrupted Snape’s persuasion. His face was slack in shock, disbelief, and discomfort.

“Harry!” Hermione smiled as though she hadn’t just been caught making out with a professor.

“Hi, Hermione,” Harry said, although his eyes were still trained on Snape, his voice empty.

After disentangling himself from Hermione, Snape stood and looked down at his least favorite student; Hermione held her breath. She blinked several times, testing her vision, for it seemed as though Snape extended a hand to Harry, and that Harry shook it, although he hesitated at first, and the handshake was extremely awkward.

“Ron’s coming, right?” Hermione asked her friend.

“He’ll be here in a minute,” Harry replied, “And I think it’d be best to ease him into it, not shove him into it like I just was – it was rough enough the other day. Save the affectionate performances for later.”

Snape slid back into his seat, “Damn. I enjoyed that.”

Hermione whacked Snape’s shoulder and shushed him, turning a shade of pink that Snape found adorable.

“Thoroughly,” he added, sliding his arm back around the girl’s shoulders as her face grew brighter.

His eyes flicked between his friend and his awful teacher for a moment before Harry stood, “I’m going to go find Ron.”

“Okay, Harry,” Hermione said, giving a nod as he left the pub.

Snape ran his long fingers over each of Hermione’s in turn; he grazed along her ring finger of her left hand and noticed that the emerald stone was on the inside. Frowning slightly, Snape questioned, “I thought you didn’t want any more secrets.”

Hermione sighed, “That’s not a secret; it’s privileged information – there’s a difference.”

“I see,” the wizard nodded once, “And who do you consider privileged?”

“Right now? You and me.”

Snape looked thoughtful for a moment, “You’ve not told a single friend? Does that mean I’m not permitted to tell a friend?”

Hermione made a face, “You can tell whoever you’d like.”

The professor nodded silently.

 

A few moments later, Madam Rosemerta returned, carrying their drinks. After she set them on the table, Snape thanked her as Hermione took a large gulp from the mug. Placing the mug back on the table, Hermione noticed Snape giving her an amused look.

“You’ve got – foam,” he spoke, gesturing to his mouth, telling her that the froth from the drink had adorned her upper lip.

Hermione blushed, “Oh!”

Snape stopped her and brushed his mouth over hers, effectively removing the foam with his mouth, leaving the barmaid dumbstruck and speechless.

“Better?” she asked when he pulled away.

“Not quite, Snape said, surveying her with his coal eyes. Snape then ensnared Hermione’s lips again, slowly kissing her, sliding several coins across the table to Madam Rosemerta, paying for their drinks

Rosemerta stood, frozen in disbelief, gazing at the pair, not understanding. After parting, Hermione smiled, sighing contentedly. Snape rested his forehead against hers and, well aware that Madam Rosemerta was still observing, decided to go for broke, “I love you.” Hermione’s eyes snapped open, startled that he had said this in front of Madam Rosemerta.

The barmaid nearly dropped the tray she had been holding; Snape turned to her, “Did I not give you the correct amount?”

Rosemerta looked flustered, “What? Wha – ? Oh, no, you did. I – I was just…Severus!”

“Yes?”

“She’s one of your students, Severus!” the woman said, “You’re…you’re – sitting in my pub, snogging a student. You can’t possibly be, what – dating – her?”

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly at her, “Might I ask why you decide what I’m permitted to do? And, as it so happens, Rose, we are not ‘dating’; Miss Granger and I are engaged.”

“I – I…I just,” the barmaid stammered, “You’re…what?”

Hermione snuggled up against Snape when his arm wound around her as he spoke, “We are engaged. This time next year, we will be married.”

Madam Rosemerta walked away, shaking her head in bewilderment. Hermione pressed her lips to Snape’s, “I can’t believe you did that!”

Snape smiled, holding her face in his hands, “No more secrets.”

 

A moment or two later, Harry returned, a begrudging and uncooperative Ron at his side.

“Hi, Ron!” Hermione grinned at her friend.

Ron grunted moodily.

“You can sit down,” Hermione said to her red-haired friend.

The boy crossed his arms, “I know that.” He cast a distrustful glare at Snape as he slid into the booth next to Harry.

Several minutes passed without anyone speaking; Harry glanced awkwardly around the pub, feeling very out-of-place, while Ron kept his eyes narrowed, focused on Hermione’s fingers intertwined with Snape’s, the professor’s thumb brushing back and forth absentmindedly across Hermione’s hand.

“As enthralling as it is to sit in silence with the pair of you, I believe there was a reason Hermione asked us to do this,” Snape spoke. Harry and Ron were caught off-guard by hearing Snape use their friend’s given name; they glanced at each other.

Harry sighed, “We did say we’d try, Ron.”

Snape’s eyes met the boy’s for a moment, “That’s the spirit, Mister Potter.”

Although he obviously tried very hard not to, Harry couldn’t help but smile at the chide.

Hermione giggled, “He does always try to look at the bright side, doesn’t he?”

“Forever the optimist,” Snape smirked, “The Forbidden Forest? We’re only twelve; nothing could possibly go wrong! There’s a murderer loose in the castle? There’s no way it’s a bad idea to go roaming the halls at night!”

Seeming amused by the good-natured jabs at his friend, Ron chimed in, “It’s not a good idea to try to go through all the tasks to get to the Sorcerer’s Stone; it’s a great idea. Why wouldn’t I drink Polyjuice Potion made by a Second Year? It’s not that difficult to make; what am I gonna do, die?”

“Ah, but it wasn’t just any Second Year,” Snape commented, “It was this Second Year,” he tightened his grip on Hermione’s shoulders, shaking her slightly.

“She could’ve easily poisoned us, you know…” Ron said, “if she wanted to.”

Hermione smiled, “Yeah, but I wouldn’t do that; you’re my friends,” she looked at Snape meaningfully, “my very best friends.”

“No more secrets?” Snape asked.

“No more secrets,” Hermione confirmed; she turned the emerald stone to the outside of her finger and looked at her friends, clearing her throat, “Guys, I have to tell you something; you’re not going to like it, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Okay…?” the boys said in unison.

Hermione held her hand up, the back of it facing her friends, showing them the ring on her finger; they looked at it, bemused, for several seconds before Harry’s face lit with understanding, “Hermione!”

Ron cut his eyes to Harry and murmured under his breath, “Which hand is that, Harry? Which hand is she showing us? It’s not – she’s not…they’re not – ?”

Harry nodded once, “Yeah.”

“NO!” Ron roared, standing up swiftly, “No, you can’t! You’re marrying him? Have you lost your mind? No, you can’t!”

Harry grabbed Ron’s arm, “Ron, come on, mate, we said we’d try.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind! She’s lost it,” Ron headed for the door to leave, “I’ll see you back in the common room, Harry.”

Harry jumped up to follow him, saying to Hermione, “I’ll talk to him. We’ll be back.”

Snape looked over at Hermione to see that her eyes were flooded with tears; he wiped one from her cheekbone then kissed the salty damp spot, “He always was rather moody.”


	5. Acquiescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron returns to The Three Broomsticks, where Hermione and Snape attempt to make him understand. 
> 
> A member of the Hogwarts staff witnesses the couple in an incriminating encounter.

After roughly half an hour, two additional butterbeers for each Hermione and Snape, the girl sniffled then sighed heavily, “Forget it. He’s not coming back; let’s just go.”

As Hermione slid out of the booth to leave, Snape seized her hand, “No. They’ll return; we’re not leaving, Hermione – absolutely not. They are your friends. It’s important to you that they _both_ accept this, and I will not leave until that stubborn ginger sits his irritating ass down here and congratulates you – _sincerely_.” 

The girl exhaled in resignation and scooted back into her spot next to the professor; Hermione looked sideways at him, “I don’t like you.”

Snape smirked at her, “Please; you adore me. There’s no need to tell fibs.” His face turned serious, “You will regret it, Hermione, if you don’t get their acquiescence.” 

Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms loosely around Snape’s neck, “Have I told you recently how much I love you, Severus Snape?” 

Pushing a lock of hair out of her face, Snape replied, “I don’t believe I could hear that enough from you,” he kissed her softly, slowly brushing his lips on hers, his tongue softly moving against her own.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron’s voice interrupted, exasperated and irritated. 

After parting, the couple gave Ron their attention; Snape frowned slightly, “Glad to see you’ve rejoined us, Mister Weasley.” 

Grumbling, the red-haired boy plopped onto the bench, “Didn’ really have much of a choice. Harry said he’d give McLaggen my position in Quidditch if I didn’t come back.” 

Hermione gave Harry a startled but grateful look, which he returned with a nod that said ‘ _of course_ ’. 

“Welcome back, Mister Weasley,” Snape spoke, a hint of irritation and sarcasm in his voice.

Narrowing his eyes slightly at the professor, Ron frowned, “So, just why is it so bloody important that I come back? So you can talk about how much you enjoy shagging her? So much that you decided you wanted to keep her from going at it with anyone else. What, did you say you’d give ‘er extra credit if she dropped her pants and just figured it was a good opportunity – young girl willing to do _anything_ for a better grade? Better lock in that easy guarantee.”

“Ron!” Hermione gasped, her brown eyes filling with tears.

Harry looked startled and gave him a swift whack on the chest, “Ron! Seriously?”

Obviously gritting his teeth, Snape clenched his fist, “Do not _dare_ speak of her in that manner. To suggest – to imply – to even _think_ that she would – I daresay you are very lucky, Mister Weasley, that Hermione requested that I be civil, for, had she not, I would have hexed you without a moment’s hesitation.”

Looking bemused, the red-haired boy stammered, “I – I – that’s not what I meant.”

“You will apologize to her this second,” Snape said sternly.

“Sorry, ‘Mione.”

Hermione gave her friend a sharp glare.

After a minute of very tense silence, Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, “So…ah…how – how did this even happen?”

Snape briefly glanced at the girl before he responded, “ _sterilitates remedia_ , I believe it was called.”

The three students, Hermione included, looked quizzically at him.

Looking at Hermione, Snape continued, “I had been…injured and was in the process of healing myself when she happened upon me and insisted on aiding. I didn’t understand why she cared, only that she did – enough to demand I allow her to help. While she was applying the _sterilitates remedia_ potion, I wondered at her concern. Hermione captivated me with her touch; she tended to me – not only that, but she did so with compassion, with tenderness. This girl – this young woman I taught and was extremely harsh to – was somehow still capable of caring for me, and that…that is extraordinary.   Over the following weeks, I realized that it wasn’t merely her actions; _she_ is extraordinary, and I found myself not falling in love with her, but being shoved all at once, undeniably, inescapably.”

He had not taken his dark eyes off Hermione while answering Harry’s question; the girl’s face filled with a faint pink blush and her eyes slowly grew watery. Snape slowly intertwined his fingers with hers, gazing at her. Watching the interaction between the two, Harry and Ron realized that Snape really did care deeply for their friend and that she was hopelessly and desperately in love with him.

Ron harrumphed, “Alright, alright, now quit with that sappy stuff; it’s sickening.”

The girl blushed a deep red. 

Hermione’s stubborn red-haired friend flicked his eyes between Snape and herself, “Are you certain about him, ‘Mione? I mean, c’mon;” Ron lowered his voice, “he killed Dumbledore.”

Snape smirked bitterly, “As it happens, Mister Weasley, the Headmaster is still very much alive.”

“No, that’s impossible.”

Hermione sighed, “No, Ron; he really is fine – it was all for show.”

“You’re kidding,” Ron exclaimed.

“I believe I’ve already established that I do not joke, Weasley; nor do I _kid_ ,” Snape spoke evenly.

The lanky boy narrowed his eyes at Snape for a moment before looking at Hermione and sighing, “You’re happy?”

“Very,” she nodded, smiling broadly.

Ron turned a suspicious look to the professor, “I still don’t trust you, so you know; I don’t like you very much, either – at all, really. I swear I’ll murder you if you do anything to hurt her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of harming her.”

Harry, who had been quietly spectating, cleared his throat, “So…when are you guys – is there – uh, when’s the – when are you getting married?”

Hermione and Snape exchanged an apprehensive look before the girl replied, “Summer.”

“ _This_ summer? **This** summer?” Harry repeated in disbelief.

“Yes, Mister Potter, this summer.”

“Wh – wh – _what_?” Ron stammered, “You’re joking. Where?”

Looking sheepishly at him, Hermione spoke quietly, “Well, actually…I was thinking…since neither of our houses has a large enough yard, and Bill and Fleur’s wedding was beautiful, maybe your parents would let us have it there?”

“For the record, Weasley, this was not my ideal choice,” Snape spoke stiffly.

Ron looked faintly green, “I – I’ll write them tonight.”

“No,” Hermione protested, “It’s just a week and a half I’ll until we get out of school; I’ll ask them.”

Snape frowned, “No. _We_ will.”

 

 

__________________________

 

 

After returning from Hogsmead, Harry and Ron went to the Gryffindor common room, while Snape and Hermione sat at a table in the library.

Hermione ran her fingers over the edges of the pages of the book sitting closed in front of her.

“It could have gone worse,” Snape spoke, knowing by her furrowed brow that she was replaying their conversation in the pub.

“It could have gone better,” Hermione grumbled. She sighed heavily, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to do it at Ron’s house?”

“Absolutely not, but I’m afraid it’s our only option. You have spent time there before, correct?”

Hermione nodded.

“Then you should be comfortable there, and it’s crucial that you feel at ease; we can’t have you unrested and grumpy.”

Frowning good-naturedly, Hermione scolded, “I’m never grumpy. How dare you suggest that?” 

The professor gave her a sarcastic nod. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t have circles under my eyes; I’ll charm them off if I don’t get eight hours.”

“You should rest longer than that; I daresay neither of us will get much sleep that night,” Snape smirked slightly at her, “if any.”

Hermione felt her face grow hot as she blushed; flustered, she coughed, “I – I’m going to bed. Speaking of sleep, I need some.”

As she walked past him, Snape ensnared her hand, “I don’t think so; you know better.” He swiftly stood. Holding her face in his hands, Snape captured her mouth with his, slowly kissing her. As his fingers brushed through her hair, pushing it away from her neck, Snape stepped into her, leaning her against the bookshelves. Snape softly grazed his lips on his student’s before trailing down onto her neck, caressing the skin tenderly as he spoke softly at her ear, “I insist on giving you a thorough goodnight kiss.”

Hermione shivered at his velvet voice and gentle touch, allowing herself to close her eyes as he tenderly bathed her neck in kisses, “Severus, I – you’re – ”

“No, not me,” he murmured into her skin, “You are the one worthy of love.” 

“Severus Snape!” a sharp voice snapped from behind his back; he knew the voice of Madam Pince would admonish him for snogging in her library and that perhaps she would try to ban him from ever returning when she saw that he was engaging with a student. 

Snape slowly turned to face the librarian with an overwhelming air of superiority, “Irma Pince. Yes?”

Her eyes fell to the student against the shelves, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Saying good evening to Miss Granger,” he looked back at Hermione and cleared his throat softly, “Good evening.”

With that, he strode out of the library, shamelessly staring into Madam Pince’s eyes, daring her to challenge him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long lulls between updates; I'm also working on a HG/SS video and can't manage my time very well.


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